Breaking Point
by excesssummer
Summary: Set after Week 7. Derek Hough had injured himself, and his friend and brother, Mark Ballas, had to step in to help his partner, Shawn Johnson. I've always wondered what happened in between, and this is the result of that wondering (and hoping). One shot. Pairing: Derek Hough/Shawn Johnson. TV Show: Dancing with the Stars, All Stars.


**CHAPTER 1. Derek.**

"Shawn, let's take five," Derek called out, striding across the floor to break off the tango hold that Mark had her in, inserting his body between them and gently pushing her towards the door. "Go on. Take a drink."

Shawn glanced at him, concern in her eyes, but the petite blonde nodded and moved away. Derek watched her until she had closed the door behind her, despite feeling Mark glaring at him the whole time. After waiting a few seconds, Derek whirled around to face Mark.

"What the hell was that, man?" he asked, hardly able to restrain his hands from moving, feeling his neck pulse with pain as he did so, but right now he didn't really much care. "What are you doing?"

"What _I'm_ doing?" Mark asked, his tone incredulous. "_I'm_ following your direction, Mis-ter Creative Genius."

"No, you're not. You're not … you're not placing your _hands_ right." Derek gestured haplessly. "Stop touching her that way."

Mark frowned at him. "Stop _touching_ her that way? What way? What are you talking about, bro?"

"Your hands. They're on her waist. Put them above that. And when you do the sweep on her leg, stop … stop making that face."

Mark's frown deepened, and he straightened up to his full height, almost matching the taller Derek. "The heck? What face?"

"That face. It's … I don't know. Just …" Derek turned away and his neck screamed protest, but he knew he needed to turn away from Mark before he could forget himself and smack his best friend. _What the hell was wrong with him? _"I can't explain it. But you get this face and I …"

"You don't like it?" Mark said. "You don't like my touching Shawn?"

"Yes. No. I mean, I don't like how your face gets." Derek turned back to face Mark. "Just … your face, man. I don't know."

To Derek's surprise, Mark's face broke into a wide smile and he shook his head, all fight in his stance gone. "Aw, man. Alright, I get it. Don't worry. I understand."

Now it was Derek's turn to be puzzled. "You do? What do you mean?"

"Come on, man," Mark said, gesturing for Derek to follow him towards the makeshift stage and sitting down. "Come on. You need a break."

Derek frowned. "I'm not even tired. I haven't moved much." He watched Mark drink from his water bottle. "But what the heck did you mean, you understand?"

Mark grinned up at him. "Well, if you don't know yet, then I think I'll just let you figure it out on your own. Things like these … need time. Seriously."

Derek ground his teeth in frustration. _What did Mark know that he didn't?_ "Fuck off, Ballas," he growled.

"You're welcome," Mark said, still smiling infuriatingly, in an I-know-what's-going-on-and-you-don't way. Derek had always hated it when Mark did that, even when they were younger. Just a few steps and he could wipe that smirk off his face …

"And why are you telling Mark to fuck off?" Shawn's voice brought Derek back to reality, jerking his violent thoughts to a halt as he realized that she had come back from his imposed break. "Are you guys having an argument?"

Before Derek could say anything, Mark stood up and pulled his bag with him, stuffing his water bottle inside. "No. But I think I should take my break for a bit."

Shawn frowned at Mark. "For the day? But we're not done."

"It's okay," Mark said. He gave Shawn a brief hug, looking pointedly at Derek as he did so. "It might be a good time to … you know, have a strategy talk. Partners should do that, especially when they're in an uncomfortable situation like this."

Shawn returned Mark's hug but Derek knew, without looking, that she was keeping her eyes on him, watching him, gauging him. He moved away from them and sat down on the floor, rested his head on the wall and closed his eyes.

When Mark had closed the door, Shawn came over to where Derek sat, her voice tentative. "Hey. Did you get mad at Mark?"

"No."

"Okay," Shawn said, sitting down beside him. "Was it because I wasn't getting the steps? That wasn't Mark's fault."

"No, no. You were doing fine." He kept his eyes closed, speaking through gritted teeth.

"Mark was just following your direction, Derek. I know he's trying to insert his ideas here and there because he's not you and he doesn't move like you do, but I know he's doing his best."

"I _know_ that," Derek said, his voice growing louder with every word. "Could you stop defending Mark for a minute?"

Shawn sat back, hurt apparent in her voice. "Stop defending Mark? I'm not _defending _him, I'm just telling you what's going on."

"Whatever," Derek said, finally opening his eyes and making as if to stand. He couldn't seem to stop lashing out, and as it was he was already disgusted with himself and he hadn't the slightest idea what was going on with him. All he knew was that nothing was going right and Mark's presence was not helping as much as he thought it would. "This sucks. I'm going home."

Shawn put out a hand gently on Derek's arm, and he started at her touch. "Hey. What's wrong with you? You've been acting like this since we started practicing. This is so not the Derek I know. Mark's not you and he's not trying to be, but if you keep doing this I may have to dance alone next Monday, and just so you know, I don't think that's allowed."

Derek looked down at Shawn's hand, a frustrated sigh escaping him. "I don't know, Shawn. I'm sorry. It's just … I don't know. I'm so frustrated. It's like … I don't think I'm myself."

"Well," Shawn said, "Maybe going home _is_ a good idea then. Maybe it's your medication just turning you upside down. I know that when I used to be drugged for pain I couldn't tell what was left or right, and my coach would get so upset."

Despite himself, Derek grinned at the thought of Shawn blindly going left or right, like a little doll bumping into things. He really could never stay upset when he was with her. "You're right. Maybe I'm taking too much of those yellow pills." He chuckled, finally looking up and meeting her eyes. "I'm sorry I'm being such a jerk."

When Shawn returned his grin, Derek found himself watching her eyes, his thoughts drifting. _She really has beautiful eyes_, he thought to himself. _Green and gold and hazel. And they sparkle when she smiles … God, I love making her smile. It would be great to make her smile forever. _Of their own accord his eyes slid down to watch her lips. _And kiss her forever._

Derek caught his own line of thought, and gave himself a mental shake in surprise. _Whoa there. Where did that come from?_

Oblivious to his thinking, Shawn tapped his arm. "Well, I'd better get going then. I'll see you tomorrow?"

Derek nodded mutely, not trusting himself to speak. His brain felt fuzzy, but everything else seemed to stand out in sharp relief, like someone had turned up the contrast in a photo. He watched Shawn stand up and grab her own bags off the floor, turn around and walk to the door, all in the economical grace that marked her as an athlete. As she closed it behind her he slid his suddenly rubbery legs slowly down until he was lying, full length, on the floor. He closed his eyes again, grateful for the darkness that shut away the morning sun filtering through the windows, frowning at the cobwebs that seemed to have taken up residence in his head.

He replayed his line of thought over and over, like a film reel. _I really must be hallucinating, _he told himself, knocking his own head on the floor beneath him, hoping that the pain would clear it for a bit and make sense of it all. _That must be it. I'm hallucinating. It must be the medication this morning. I'm imagining things._

Drowsiness tugged at him as he steadied his breath to relax. _Relax, Hough, it's nothing. It's the medication this morning. _Little by little, he willed himself to ease his muscles, and his senses began to shut down, one by one. But just as he was about to let sleep bring him to darkness, a memory surfaced, clear as day, then just as suddenly submerged back into his subconscious. It was so quick, all he had time for was one thought before he finally fell asleep: _I take my medication at night, not in the morning._

* * *

**Chapter 2. Shawn.**

Shawn was exhausted.

Practice that morning was particularly tense, and she found her energy being slowly sapped from the combination of physical tension and emotional frustration. On top of that Derek was not being his usual self, and while she was already beside herself with worry for him, it did not help at all that he seemed genuinely puzzled at himself. Truth be told, she was really confused by his behavior, as he was not at all being the playful guy she had become very fond of over the last few weeks.

She would never have imagined that Mark and Derek would ever come to an argument, but, entering the room that morning, she had the fleeting impression that Derek was about to hit Mark. Weirdly enough, Mark had been smiling then and Derek looked … well, he looked livid. She guessed she had come in at just the right moment and if she had her way she would have gotten to the bottom of things immediately, but Mark seemed to have other ideas and Derek was just being plain evasive.

_But Mark_, she thought. _Mark, I think, knows what's happening. Derek is his best friend, his brother, after all. Maybe I should ask him._

Tonight would be the perfect night to ask Mark, as they were going to the CMAs together. It should have been Derek with her, but with his injury his doctors and his manager did not want to aggravate anything and they told him to rest. Presenting at the CMAs was a dream come true for Shawn, but the excitement she had felt before now felt damp – she had so looked forward to spending the gala night with Derek. He was funny and smart and annoying and was just generally a great person to hang out with, and she could imagine what a great time they could have had tonight. Mark was sweet, but ... Mark just wasn't Derek.

He could never be Derek.

_Oh, whatever,_ she told herself. Of course Mark wasn't Derek. She really should be more thankful that he was there to step in when Derek wasn't available, and stop thinking of what could have been. It was, after all, just one night. And, if Derek still wasn't well enough by next week, it was just one week – one week to survive and then she would have her real partner back.

That didn't sound so bad, did it?

* * *

"Shawn? Are you ready, sweetie?"

Shawn started at the sound of her mother's voice, muffled from behind the door, and realized that she had been staring at her reflection in the mirror for the past few minutes. She got up from the stool and crossed the room to admit her mother into the room.

"Oh, darling, you're nowhere near ready," Mrs. Johnson said. "Why haven't you gotten dressed?" She bustled around Shawn's bedroom, going over to the closet where her dress for that night's awarding ceremonies hung.

"Oh, mama," Shawn said, sighing. "I'm just not feeling like it."

Mrs. Johnson came over and sat beside Shawn. "Is something the matter?" She frowned at her. "Is your knee acting up again?"

"No, no, mama, it's okay," Shawn hastily said. It wouldn't do to make her mom think that she wasn't physically capable of continuing her stint at _Dancing with the Stars_. "I guess I'm tired."

"But you were so excited to go just last week," her mother exclaimed. "And that dress … I've never seen you actually wanting to buy a dress. I would have thought that you'd be very happy to put that thing on."

Shawn smiled ruefully. "I don't know. I _was_. I guess … I guess I'm not, not so much at least, now."

Mrs. Johnson smiled at her sympathetically. "You're still worried about Derek, aren't you, sweetie?"

Shawn couldn't reply for a moment. "I guess … I guess so." She turned to face her mother. "Mama, what if Derek won't get well? What if he can't dance with me again?"

"Then I guess Mark will step in permanently."

"Oh, my God, no," Shawn burst out, standing up vehemently, "Please no."

"Why?" her mom asked. "You'd won with Mark before, right? And you're comfortable with him. He's not … taking advantage of you, is he?"

"What?" Shawn said, turning back towards her mother. "What? No. No, Mark is a gentleman, mama. He'd never do that."

"Then why are you so hell bent on getting Derek back? He's just a dancer," she said. "Mark is also a dancer. What's the difference?"

"Oh, mama, I can't explain," Shawn exclaimed. "It's just that, this morning, when I danced with Mark again, I felt … wrong. Not like I'm cheating on Derek or something, like I had felt when I first switched, but … just wrong. Dancing with Mark is fun – don't misunderstand, mama. He's really fun." Shawn paced around her room, fidgeting absently with her hair. "But when I was moving with him some part of me kept insisting, all the while, that it wasn't Derek, it wasn't Derek … and the feeling was so weird … like – like doing a routine on the beam with just one foot, all the time. I couldn't find my balance, my sense of – rightness, when it used to be so easy. It was like I … like I …"

"… had lost half of yourself?" Mrs. Johnson supplied, her voice gentling.

"Yes! Yes. That was how it felt like. Like I was missing half of myself." Shawn sat back down on the bed. "Do you know what I mean, mama? Have you ever felt that before?"

Mrs. Johnson reached out and pulled her daughter into a hug. Shawn settled into her mother's embrace and took comfort in her presence. "Yes," she said softly into Shawn's hair.

"Really, mama? What did you do?" Shawn whispered.

To Shawn's surprise, her mother didn't speak, but instead let her go and stood up from the bed, crossing over to the door and opening it. Shawn watched her mother, puzzled.

"Mama?" Shawn called. "What did you do? How did you fix it?"

The older woman turned from the door. "What did I do? I did what any woman would when they find the other halves of their souls." She smiled gently at Shawn, understanding and sympathy on her face. "I married him, sweetie."

* * *

**Chapter 3. Derek.**

Being injured really sucks.

Derek lay face down on the mat, inwardly cursing his body. They had just finished his third acupuncture session in as many days, and it had brought him little, if any, relief. But he was determined to do anything and everything he could to be able to dance with Shawn again, as soon as they would let him, and being pricked with a little less than a hundred needles everyday seemed a paltry price to pay.

They had gone off now, _thank God_, Derek thought to himself, willing his disc to pop back into his spine where it belonged. They had already pulled out all the needles – ten more today than yesterday – and told him to stay prone for at least twenty more minutes before he could get up. At his request they had all left to give him a moment's peace, and he could finally relax.

His mind wandered off to settle on Shawn, as it seemed to do too often these days. He wondered whether she and Mark were on their way to the CMAs, and he felt a pang in his gut when he remembered that it should have been him that had gone with her tonight. But his stupid disc just had to decide to do this this week, of all days, just when he had been looking forward to just hanging out with his partner outside of the dance studio.

But then again, maybe it was for the best. His thoughts this morning still bothered him. _Really, Derek, _he chided himself, _she's seven years younger than you. She's younger than Julianne._

_So what? _His other side piped up. _That doesn't mean anything. She is, if you haven't noticed, already a woman._

Derek shook his head, trying to clear his still-muddled thoughts. Yes, he had, indeed, noticed that Shawn was now a woman – a very different creature from the shy one he had first met three years back. The journey they had had for the past weeks had brought out a maturity in Shawn that surprised Derek, a vulnerability and strength and an openness and a gentleness that he could not help but admire. Shawn was a vibrant and complex person, beautiful in and out, and it became more and more evident, with each passing day.

In his mind he saw this morning yet again, as if on instant replay. _Well, if you don't know yet, then I think I'll just let you figure it out on your own. Things like these … need time. Seriously._

_Yeah, right, Mark, easy for you to say. _Derek moved his body slightly to settle more comfortably into the mat, finding some indistinct pleasure in venting his frustration at Mark. _Asshole._

Really, Mark was such a pain sometimes. He was his best friend and the brother he never had, but when he wanted to he could be completely infuriating. That morning was no different – he had begun by clowning around, hugging Shawn and whirling her like a dervish, making her giggle while he, Derek, could only watch.

_Making her giggle, and smile. Asshole. No one else should be making my Shawn smile but me._

**_My_**_ Shawn._

_Oh my God._

There it was. Out in the open. Realization hit him like a speeding train, making him roll over and open his eyes. He lay there for a moment, stunned, staring at nothing but the dark ceiling. Everything – his thoughts, his perplexing emotions – suddenly made sense, as if they were puzzle pieces that had fallen into place.

It made sense.

But that didn't make it any less crazy – or scary – to deal with.

The sound of the door opening startled Derek, but he forced himself to lie still. If this was Karen, his publicist, she would scold him to death about lying on his back when he was told to lie on his stomach, so he steeled himself for her reprimand even as he closed his eyes and tried to feign sleep.

He heard heels clicking on the wooden floor, and he absently wondered whether he had noticed Karen wearing heels that afternoon – she had always been the sneaker type of person …

"Derek?" Even in the dark, Derek would never mistake that voice for anyone else's.

Shawn.

Derek opened his eyes, and true enough, she was there. He had to breathe slowly before he could answer – he was still dazed from his realization, and it seemed to be the weirdest coincidence that she suddenly appeared, like the force of his thoughts had called her here.

But wait. She was here.

She was _not_ supposed to be here.

"Why are you here, Shawn?" Derek asked, looking at her. Kneeling there, her hair caught the moonlight, and he thought he had never seen a more beautiful – if unwelcome under the circumstances – sight. "Aren't you supposed to be all dolled up and on your way to the CMAs?"

As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he realized that she must have been, indeed, on her way to the CMAs. She was wearing a blue gown that hugged her body beautifully, and although she ruined the effect by kneeling on it he could see how the color brought out her natural light.

"Yes," Shawn said, fidgeting. After a moment of discomfort, she hiked up her skirt and sat down on the floor. "I am, actually. Or at least, as you can see, supposedly."

Hefting himself from his position and onto his elbows, Derek turned to face Shawn. "Are you okay? Did Mark not show up?"

Shawn shook her head. "No. He showed up."

Derek watched her as she fiddled with the hem of her dress, something he noticed she did when she was nervous. "So then … why are you here?"

"I …" she began, then, seemingly mustering her courage, she blurted out, "I was worried about you, so I came."

Derek smiled, infinitely touched. "I'm okay, babe. Not going anywhere, as you can see. And trying to get well, so we can dance together again."

Shawn looked up at that, her face stilling. "Are we dancing together again, Derek? Are we?"

Surprised by the uncertainty in her eyes and the fear in her voice, Derek drew himself all the way to a sitting position, facing her. "Of course we are, babe. Why are you even asking me that?"

She hung her head. "I had a realization this afternoon, when I was talking to my mom. It's just that … this morning made me suddenly see that I couldn't dance with Mark. Not anymore. It didn't feel right, Derek. That trophy … I don't care. I don't care! All I care about is that – I don't want to dance … if I'm not dancing with you."

Derek's breath caught.

_With me. _

_She doesn't want to dance if it wasn't with me._

_With me!_

Almost without conscious thought, Derek reached out to touch her face, putting a finger under her chin and raising it gently. Their eyes met, held. Shawn's sparkled with unshed tears, making it shimmer in the soft light, shifting colors. _Beautiful, _he thought. _Everything about her is beautiful._

Time narrowed down into a pinpoint in space as he moved, slowly, to lean over and kiss her. Nothing meant anything to him right at that moment – nothing but the urge to kiss her that was so strong it was as if he was falling, falling into her.

He was lost. Utterly and completely lost.

When they broke apart, Derek wasn't sure how much time had passed. Had it been hours or days or minutes or eons? He didn't care. He was grinning like an idiot, and he couldn't seem to stop.

"What?" Shawn asked him, smiling, gently cupping his face. "What's with the goofy grin?"

"Nothing," Derek said, aware that he was still grinning but not giving a damn, kissing her forehead and nose. "Everything."

"I don't know why, but that makes perfect sense." Shawn sighed, moving into Derek's open arms. "It makes perfect sense. Like this makes perfect sense."

Derek kissed the top of her head, smoothing down her hair gently. "It does."

"I don't know what that does to anything, but …" Shawn stopped abruptly, gasping. "Oh my God."

"What?" Derek asked, alarmed, moving away from her, but staying within arm's length. "What?"

"Oh my God, Derek. Look at you." Shawn shifted to kneel, balancing herself on his arms. "You're sitting up and moving normally. You're … you're moving normally, Derek."

He stared at her, surprised. He gingerly tested his neck, moving it from side to side, and felt no pain whatsoever. She was right. He _was_ moving normally. "Wow," he breathed, shaking his head. "I had no idea."

"No idea that what?" Shawn asked.

Derek stopped moving and gathered Shawn into his arms again. "That this was the cure for it."

Shawn giggled as she snuggled closer. "It's a miracle."

"It is. You're _my_ miracle, baby." Derek buried his head into her hair, caressing her arm lightly, making her shiver. "Do you love dancing with me?"

Shawn looked up at him, a soft smile playing on her face in recognition of their little ritual. "I love dancing with you."

"I love dancing with you too," Derek said, standing up and holding out his arms for her to take.

"Well then," Shawn said, taking his hands and standing straight into his embrace, "Let's go dance together."

* * *

**Epilogue**

A soft breeze woke Shawn up from her sleep, and it took her a moment before she remembered that the windows were not open, and therefore should be admitting no breeze. She groaned.

"Wake up, sleepy head," Derek said, blowing more air into her face. "We're running late."

She turned away from him, groaning into her pillow. "I don't want to wake up," she said.

"Come on, babe," he said, putting his arms around her. "I've already gone on my run, and both Romy and Max are fed. That means it's well past eight, and we've got a dinner to get under way."

"Easy for you to say," she sighed, shifting herself on the bed carefully. Being on the final term of pregnancy was just tiring, and although she was excited to finally bring their baby into the world, it was nowhere near Derek's excitement. He was just raring to be a father, and was proud to be one. Nonetheless, it didn't keep her from wanting to sleep in more and more, especially as her due date loomed near. "I just kept waking up last night, he was kicking so hard."

"Oh, babe, I'm sorry, I didn't know!" Derek exclaimed, moving over to assist her into a sitting position, propping pillows for her back. He cupped his hand tenderly over her swollen stomach. "Was he being naughty?"

Shawn smiled. "I think he was dancing."

Derek's own eyes crinkled with amusement. "Or he could be doing cartwheels."

Shawn sighed and threaded her hands in his, linking them on top of her belly, where their baby was. Perhaps sensing his parents, the baby quieted down, finally settling, and Shawn sighed in relief. "Oh, thank God. I think he's finally gone to sleep."

"Good. Do you still want to rest?" Derek asked, caressing Shawn's face. "I can go supervise everything if you want to. After all, it's just Mark and Sabrina – and since she's almost as far along as you are, they'd probably be late anyway."

Shawn watched the light play around her husband's blonde hair, on his taut muscles, and loved every inch of him all over again. Whoever would have thought, really? "No, babe. I'm good." She looked into his eyes, and saw love – love and tenderness and pride – reflected there. "You know I love being with you, right? Do you still love being with me?"

Derek smiled: the permutations of their little ritual were numerous over the last two years, but not all of them were universally true as this. "Baby, I'll always love being with you," he said, standing up, opening his arms wide in acceptance.

"Well then," Shawn said, taking his hands and pulling herself up, straight into Derek's arms, "Let's do this together, babe."

THE END


End file.
